


More Than Friends

by soliloquize



Series: What Happens in St. Agnes... [2]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: HELLA hand kisses, M/M, No Spoilers, and hand kisses, just some cuddles and boys who are bad at articulating emotions, really adam parrish just needs a warmer apartment, this has nothing to do with trk lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 22:17:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6677527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soliloquize/pseuds/soliloquize
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cons of having Ronan in his bed:<br/>-Makes it really hard to concentrate on Beowulf<br/>-Does nothing to clarify their relationship status</p><p>Pros of having Ronan in his bed:<br/>-He's very good at imitating a space heater<br/>-...He's very good at other things, too</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than Friends

                “There’s room on the bed asshole,” Adam said with minimal impatience after Ronan burst into his apartment, grabbed a pillow, and threw himself supine on the floor.  After a weird hesitation, as though unsure if he actually has permission, Ronan tossed the pillow at Adam’s head and moved instead to lie next to him on the bed.

                The hesitation bothered Adam a little because of all the adjective’s he’s attributed to Ronan Lynch over the years, _indecisive_ had never made the list.  Adam doesn’t think he’s wrong about Ronan’s interest in him, but maybe it’s more casual than he thought.  Maybe the suggestion to join him on the bed was too clingy, maybe Ronan only came over because Adam’s homework-induced lack of sleep is an easier brand of insomnia to put up with than Gansey’s.  Maybe Ronan doesn’t want to be pressed against Adam like this as much as Adam wants him to be.

                These thoughts momentarily derailed as Ronan’s arm snaked around Adam’s waist, positioning him so that Adam was leaning back against Ronan’s chest.  They were no longer simply two fairly large boys crammed together on a fairly small bed; this was unequivocal spooning.

                “S’this okay?” Ronan asked with that same little hesitation.

                “Sure,” Adam said, determined not to show how much his reading comprehension was affected by the feel of Ronan’s breath on the back of his neck.

                “Good,” Ronan made the word sound like the final point in a heated argument.  “Wouldn’t want to distract you from your beloved Chaucer.”

                “It’s _Beowulf_.  I thought you actually did assignments now.”

                “What kind of prick actually does _all_ the assignments?” 

                Adam didn’t reply.  The familiar combination of exasperation and bitterness that anyone could afford to care so little about their future rose in the back of his throat, but he really did need to finish _Beowulf_ , and association with Ronan was an exercise in choosing one’s battles.

He returned to reading with a fractured focus while Ronan’s breath slowed, presumably to sleep.  It occurred to Adam that Ronan was a pretty effective solution to the problem of St. Agnes’s terribly inconsistent heating, and he appreciated having some way to categorize Ronan’s presence in his life, beyond just “friend”.  Adam wasn’t sure where they were, but the multiple different make out sessions suggested indeed that it was somewhere beyond just friends.   “Personal Furnace” seemed as good a label as any, and _god_ Ronan was warm.  Adam liked that his perpetual battle with the winter’s chill was now on more even footing, but he wasn’t sure it was worth the way his thoughts kept getting pulled to sleep--and to other things that had nothing to do with sleep nor the death of Grendel’s mother, which was what he really needed to be focusing on. 

He pushed himself through the end of the reading through sheer obstinacy because the alternative was admitting that Ronan Lynch’s mere _presence_ was enough to throw off his academic performance.  Adam slid out of bed to put the book with his satchel and turn off the lights.  A large portion of Ronan’s warmth seemed to stay in his chest as he shed his T-shirt in preparation for sleep, but Adam still hurried to get back in the bed with a strange mix of trepidation and glee.

Ronan sleepily replaced his arm as Adam lay back down, only to hiss with sudden alertness.

“ _Fuck_ your feet are cold, Parrish.”

“My hands are colder,” Adam said, rolling to press the offending appendages against Ronan’s shoulder.  Ronan had recoiled as much as the wall would let him, so Adam was able to face Ronan without mashing their faces together, but only just.

“What’s wrong with you?” Ronan demanded.  Adam half-laughed, and he saw Ronan lick his lips through the darkness.

It occurred to Adam that Ronan’s earlier hesitation’s might not have been unwillingness but rather fear of Adam rejecting him.  The thought that Ronan Lynch didn’t just want him, but wanted Adam to _want him back_ filled Adam with the kind half-baked confidence that rides in on a racing heartbeat at one in the morning.

“Why don’t you warm them up for me, Lynch?” he challenged.

Never one to refuse a dare, Ronan ran his hands down Adam’s arms and took hold of his wrists.  He wove his fingers through Adam’s right hand and brought the other one to his lips.  Adam’s eyes closed as Ronan kissed his palm with impossible gentleness, the kind that always surprised Adam, reminded him that Ronan wasn’t just a vengeful god, a hurricane of a teenage boy, wild and lawless and unstoppable.  When no one was looking, Ronan fed stray kittens and cuddled sleeping mice, and the darkness of Adam’s apartment was apparently enough seclusion to bring out the side of Ronan usually reserved for small animals.

It was almost reverential, the way Ronan brushed his lips against Adam’s palm, but it made every nerve in Adam’s body light up like a power surge.  He felt the sandpaper of Ronan’s stubble where his jaw knocked against the heel of his hand, and his breath caught when Ronan started to suck at the same spot.  Occasionally Ronan’s tongue slipped out, and Adam shuddered with the effort of not groaning aloud.  He could feel himself unravelling, getting lost in arousal, feeling like he could do nothing but whimper at the softness of Ronan’s touch.  _Damn it Parrish, get it together_.

Adam threw his leg over Ronan’s and kissed him hard.  He didn’t want any more gentleness.  He wanted to be rough and greedy and he wanted Ronan to feel as undone as he had just a second ago.  Ronan’s hands still cradled Adam’s as he brushed his fingers through the fuzz that had grown out on Ronan’s head, but as Adam’s kisses grew more insistent they migrated down to his waist, dancing down to his ass and back up.  Ronan hissed when Adam ground down his hips in response, grabbing Adam’s ass to pull Adam against him again.

“No,” Adam growled without taking his mouth off Ronan’s jaw.  Ronan released his grip, and Adam pulled Ronan’s arms up above his head, holding them against the wall by his wrists.  Ronan swore when Adam let his teeth graze the skin just behind his ear, and jerked his hips up in a way that made it impossible for Adam to ignore how hard they both were.  It felt like victory.

Adam slid down enough that he could get his hands under the hem of Ronan’s shirt.  Helpfully, Ronan sat up enough for Adam to pull it over his raised arms, leaving Adam straddling Ronan’s lap with their bare chests pressed together.  The hunger in Ronan’s eyes made Adam kiss him again, sucking at his lip until Ronan groaned.

Adam wanted him to do it again, so he pushed him back down, rubbing his lips numb against Ronan’s stubble, nipping at his throat often enough to keep things interesting.

“Parrish— _fuck_ —you should really stop if you don’t—ah—want me to come all over your fucking bed,” Ronan said in a very strangled voice.

“I want you to come,” Adam said roughly.  They’d never gotten this far before, but he’d never been so sure about anything.  “I want to make you come.”

Ronan’s inhale was sharp as he pushed himself up on his elbows.

“Is that okay?” Adam asked.

He felt Ronan nod, short and desperate.  The next kiss was slow, dragged out long enough for Adam to slide his hand down Ronan’s stomach and dip below his waistband.  Ronan fell back with a groan that was almost a whimper and Adam almost came himself just from the sound of it.  He pushed Ronan’s boxers off and leveraged his weight off Ronan with one hand while running his hand along Ronan’s dick once with his other.

Adam kissed him as he stroked Ronan’s dick again.

“Faster, _god_ ,” Ronan gasped into Adam’s mouth.  Adam obliged, though he couldn’t keep himself from thrusting against Ronan’s leg at the same time, not when Ronan was struggling to even get swears out. 

“Oh, fuck _Adam_ —“ As Ronan moaned Adam’s name, Adam felt him come.  His own erection throbbed as he continued to suck aggressively at Ronan’s lips.  “Parrish.  Adam,” Ronan said unevenly as Adam kissed him.  “Do you want me to…”

“Yes,” Adam told him.  Ronan wound one hand through Adam’s hair, pulling him in for a rough kiss, and got him off in two strokes. 

Adam leaned back after his orgasm, shy now that he was less single-minded.  He was still riding enough of a high that embarrassment hadn’t overtaken him, but he could feel it looming. 

What the fuck had he just done?

“I’m gonna go get a washcloth,” Adam muttered, wincing as he heard the elision of his accent.  Ronan didn’t say anything, and Adam lingered in the bathroom for a few extra seconds.  In the cracked mirror, he could see his freckles hiding behind a blush.

His first time doing anything below the waist with someone else—and he was pretty sure it might even have been Ronan’s too—and it had been great, but it wasn’t beautiful or even remotely dignified. 

No.  _Adam_ had taken the beauty out of it, the softness that had been there in Ronan’s first kiss.  It was Adam’s fault it had become so rough and animalistic, Adam who couldn’t control himself.

It was like it had been with Blue.  Relationships were just one more thing Adam was pretending to be good at; it was only a matter of time before his roots showed.

He walked back into the main room with the washcloth and offered it to Ronan without saying anything.  Ronan wiped himself off and tossed it in the milk crate Adam used as a laundry bag. 

“Are you coming back to bed, or are you going to sleep on a feet like a fucking horse?” Ronan finally said when Adam didn’t move. 

“I thought it was your cows that slept standing up,” Adam muttered, but he slid in beside Ronan.

“My cows are dreams, not proverbs.” 

Several minutes went by in silence, until—

“Do you want me to just sleep on the floor, Parrish?”  The question was angry, but it had something behind it that wasn’t Ronan’s usual heat. 

“No,” Adam replied honestly.

“Well you’re thrashing around like a beached whale.”

Adam’s mouth was too dry to think up an excuse.  “Are you really okay with this?” he asked instead, too tired to be tactful.

“What’s ‘this’?” Ronan gestured mockingly, but his voice lacked its accustomed razor edge.

“I don’t fucking know.  Us.  What we just did.  Whatever it is we are.”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s helpful.”

“What do you want me to say, Lynch?” Adam’s bubbling insecurity finally made his frustration boil over.

“I don’t want you to say anything just because I said it.”

“What, so you think I’m your fucking yes-man?”  The conversation was veering woefully off-track, but Adam couldn’t stop it from derailing.

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Then what do you mean?” Adam demanded.

“That I like you, dipshit,” Ronan said furiously, though Adam thought most of his anger was directed at having to actually say it out loud rather than at Adam himself.  “And I want to be together or whatever, but not because you’re afraid of hurting my fucking feelings by saying no.”

Adam inhaled through his nose to calm himself down, an attempt to disembark from the rollercoaster of emotions he’s been riding for the last hour.

“I don’t want to say no.  I thought you might be having second thoughts.”

“Because you humped my brains out?  Good news Parrish, I’m okay with you doing that pretty much whenever the fuck you want.”

“You’re a real charmer, Lynch.”  Adam tried for sarcasm, but he couldn’t help the sort of triumphant relief that spread through his chest like a hot drink.

“Go to sleep, Parrish,” Ronan grumbled, but as Adam settled with his head against the other boy’s shoulder, he saw a smile dancing on Ronan’s lips. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this before reading TRK, I just didn't have time to post it, so that's a little awkward.
> 
> No longer canon compliant, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway


End file.
